


who's to say what normal is

by Mynx (orphan_account)



Category: South Park
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 17:22:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1518923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Mynx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Normal be damned, is what Tweek would say. If he was even semi-coherent right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	who's to say what normal is

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I hope this isn't total shit. It's just 2,000 words of Tweek putting Craig into his spank bank.
> 
> BOOM. No regrets.

This had never happened before!

Okay, that was a lie. It had happened before, but only when he just woke up in the mornings! Occasionally it would happen randomly in the night, when Tweek actually managed to fall asleep early in the evenings. He would have weird, fragmented dreams and wake up panting, out of breath and achingly hard in his pajama pants.

This wasn’t something he was equipped to handle! He was seventeen-years-old, and he had thought foolishly that he had gotten away all these years without having to do anything. It would eventually simmer down if he gave it enough time. This time felt different though. His skin felt too tight on his body and his legs were all quivery, refusing to help him scramble out of bed.

“J-jesus Christ,” Tweek muttered to himself, his fingers tangling in the sheets of his bed.

He shouldn’t have been thinking about Craig. He shouldn’t have been thinking about how they had hung out the night before, and how close they had sat to one another. He _definitely_ shouldn’t have been thinking about what it might have felt like to reach over and hold his hand. They had both been on the couch together, while Token and Clyde played video games together and argued. It was nice, sitting with Craig quietly and enjoying the coffee Tweek had gotten earlier from Token. Companionable was probably the right word for it.

But then Craig had shifted and his thigh had brushed against Tweek’s own. Normally this would have been ignored-- it wasn’t a big deal, had never been a big deal-- but something inside of Tweek shifted as well. It felt like an electric shock vibrated through his body and he tensed up, his fingers curling tightly around the mug in his hands and clutching it tight enough to make his fingers appear bone-white.

Craig’s eyes slide over to Tweek and he quirked a brow. “What,” he stated, staring at his friend with dark, indecipherable eyes. Tweek stared back at him, his own green eyes wide in his pale face.

“N-nothing!” he screeched and ducked his head, holding his coffee mug under his face and letting the steam waft up to his face. He found comfort in the smell of the drink, in the familiarity of having it in his grasp. Craig continued to stare at him for several moments and then leaned closer, so his face was very near Tweek’s. Too near. He was much too close!

“What,” Craig repeated, as if he knew Tweek was lying. Tweek shook his head quickly and shifted a little, trying to get away from Craig’s body heat, which was now reaching him since the boy was practically looming over his friend. Craig watched him quietly, eyes intent on Tweek’s face.

“Hey, Craig,” Clyde called and Craig glanced away. The moment was broken, as the dark haired male leaned away from Tweek and twisted to look at Clyde. Tweek breathed a sigh of relief and took a quick gulp of his coffee. Phew! At least that was over and done with. The rest of the night was pretty normal, everything passing easily by and soon enough Tweek was saying goodbye, ready to go home. Clyde and Token acted normally, waving and telling him to be safe on his walk home. Craig just watched him, his hands shoved deep into the blue jacket he always wore, his eyes inscrutable.

“B-bye, C-Craig,” Tweek said again, because maybe he hadn’t heard him? Craig just tilted his head a bit to the side and frowned, eyes taking him in, and Tweek suddenly felt like Craig saw _too much_. He wasn’t supposed to be able to look at him and, with one glance, pick him apart. God, this was too much pressure! Tweek had thought he had slowly gotten over this kind of freaking out over the years, but obviously not. He’d have to talk to his mom tomorrow about his medication. It wasn’t working like it was supposed to! He wasn't supposed to feel this anxious anymore!

“Bye,” Craig finally said. Tweek opened up the door and fled into the night, feeling like he hadn’t gotten away soon enough. He’d gotten home five minutes before his curfew, though his parents were already asleep. They trusted him enough to get home on time. Tweek practically flew up the stairs, making a straight beeline for his room and then diving in, shutting the door after him. Ah, finally! Sanctuary. These weird feelings would go away and he wouldn’t have to think about them anymore.

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep. He hadn’t made the conscious decision to go to bed, at least. He was quite sure he had meant to stay up all night and watch some stupid TV show on Netflix. But now he was waking up, a raging hard on in his pajama pants, and squirming because he was _too hot_. His body felt like it was burning up, like he could randomly combust, and he was sure that wasn't normal. Well, that was normal, for other boys, for other people who weren’t him. He rarely felt like this. He hadn’t felt like this since the onset of his puberty and then it had faded away. Why was he feeling this way now!?

It must have something to do with Craig, something to do with that weird exchange last night. Tweek emitted a quiet, low groan when he thought of the dark haired male. That didn’t help his body’s reaction! That didn’t make it go away! It only made it worse! Tweek snapped his eyes closed and tried to regulate his breathing. If he ignored it, it would go away. That’s what he always did the other very few times this occurred to him. He ignored it and it faded away.

He counted slowly in his head: one, two, three, four-- he kept counting, and counting, but nothing was making it abate. Finally, he groaned and snapped his eyes open. Biting his lower lip, he squirmed a bit on the bed and listened to the rustling of his sheets. He was going to have to do something. He was going to have to take this situation firmly in hand--

He nearly burst into a small peal of nervous, slightly hysterical laughter.

Take the situation in hand! The situation would definitely be his traitorous dick, he was sure of it. What a funny way his mind worked at odd times. Tweek still felt way too nervous though, the fluttery sensation in his tummy intensifying. He’d never actually masturbated before. It had never been an issue, had never come up. He knew _how_ , but... well, he had never needed to, so he was still a bit edgy about actually doing it.

“O-okay,” he breathed and tried to settle his stomach. It was doing odd flips. He just had to... he reached down and shed his pajama pants, throwing them carelessly across the room. They fell with a clatter, probably landing on his desk and taking out half of his figurines. Oh well, he didn’t have time to think about that right now. It was almost time to get up and get ready for school. He needed to get this over with!

Was he supposed to just jump right into it? Or was he supposed to “wine and dine” himself? Tease it out and make it longer? He didn’t want it to be drawn out, oh jesus tap dancing christ!! This was too much. This was way too much. Tweek wasn’t hardwired for this kind of pressure. He was going to come apart at the seams and then what would happen? His parents were going to find him, dead and half naked, his hand inches away from his--

No.

Clenching his eyes closed, his hand began the slow journey down his body. His breathing was picking up, escalating to a very whispery, very quick pace. His hand wrapped slowly around his achingly hard dick and he nearly whined. God, this was-- he didn’t want to admit that it was nice. It felt nice, yes, but he didn’t want to say it even in his own head, because that was like he was rewarding his body. _Hey, okay, thanks for making me so horny I feel like I’m going to fly apart. Keep up the good work!_ No. Tweek wasn’t happy about this. He wasn’t happy that just the thought of Craig--

Ohhhh shit. Just the thought of the raven haired youth made his dick do weird, funny things. It pulsed, almost! Jesus, was it supposed to do that!? Tweek’s other hand came up to clamp over his mouth, to keep the groan from being too loud. He didn’t need his parents hearing this. He began to pump, very slowly, up and down, his fingers still too loose for his own liking. But he didn’t want to grip too hard! What if it broke off and then he didn’t have a penis anymore!? God, that would be an awful thing to have to explain to someone--

He needed to focus. If he kept going off on these tangents, it was only going to make this even longer and he didn’t want that. Even if his body was begging for more, begging for it to go faster and harder and longer, Tweek’s own rational part of his brain _didn’t want that_. Nope. No way. No, sirree!

He began to go a bit faster though, mostly because he wanted to get off and that was what his body seemed to want. His fingers were still way too loose around his own cock, but he was still too afraid to grasp harder. How would Craig do it, if he was the one doing this to Tweek--?

“Ahhh,” Tweek gasped, and it somehow slipped between his loose fingers. He balled up his free hand and practically shoved it into his mouth, groaning around it as he thought of his best friend. This was definitely not okay. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking of Craig, with his hands wrapped around Tweek’s boner and his lips smirking down at him. Craig, teasing him and muttering in his ear, asking him _I bet you fucking like that, don’t you_? That wasn’t normal. That was definitely the furthest thing from normal!

But Tweek’s body didn’t care, because his fingers finally tightened their grip and he groaned when he thought of Craig, Craig, Craig. Would this feel different, if it was his best friend doing this to him? Would it feel better? God, it already felt really good to think of Craig while he did this. It already felt great to think of Craig doing this to him! Would it feel so much better if it really was the dark haired boy hovering over him, pressing him down into the mattress, rutting against him--

Tweek’s body was chanting _yes, yes, yes._

Shit! Shit! Just thinking about Craig shoving him onto his own bed, of Craig looming over him and smirking down at him, of him divesting Tweek of every piece of clothing he usually wore and tossing it carelessly across the room. It made Tweek’s body shiver with some wanton need, deep inside of his stomach and curling tighter. It was settling deep into his bones and Tweek arched his back, his fingers jerking shakily as they attempted to relieve the pressure building inside of his body. He shivered and gasped repeatedly around his balled up fist, clamping his eyes closed.

So close, so close, so--

But what would Craig look like if Tweek was doing this to Craig? What would Craig look like as he came apart? What would he taste like--

Tweek cried out and tensed, and that was it. It was done. He came all over his hand and made a mess of things. With a sigh, Tweek loosened up and collapsed back onto his sweat damp blankets. God dammit. God dammit, that was the best thing that Tweek had ever done and it was completely shaking him to the core.

He had just... he had just... holy shit, he had just masturbated to thoughts of _Craig Tucker_. That couldn’t be okay. That definitely wasn’t normal.

Tweek finally opened his eyes and stared blearily up at the ceiling, panting lightly as he allowed his other hand to fall away from his mouth.

“Fuck normal,” he rasped.

If that wasn’t natural, then he definitely didn’t want to ever be normal again.


End file.
